


The Heir of Ostwick

by lustfulpasiphae (miraphora)



Series: Never to Rule [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:31:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6497341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraphora/pseuds/lustfulpasiphae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation on the Skyhold battlements between the Inquisitor and her Commander, on the arrival of the heir to Bann Trevelyan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heir of Ostwick

“And *she’s* the Bann of Ostwick’s heir?” Cullen’s voice is skeptical beside her. 

Thea shifts against the stones of the battlement, grins wryly. “Unless the salty old bastard has married a third time and spawned, aye.”

“But she travels with mercenaries.” 

“I’m not sure you’ve noticed this, Commander,” she says, deadpan, “but a good third of our army were mercs.” 

“Thea.”

“Cullen,” she mimics his repressive tone, cutting her dark eyes sidelong at him. 

He heaves a good-humored and long-suffering sigh that makes her heart soar. On the good days, the days where the lyrium hunger isn’t driving one or both of them mad, he is the sort of man you could love and laugh with forever. Because it *is* a good day, she doesn’t dwell on what either one of them can be when this is not the case.

She shifts closer to him, liking the way he opens up his guard to her and slides an arm around her waist. She’s used to the chilly damp breezes off the ocean, but the wind on the Skyhold battlements is another beast entirely. His steady warmth is comfortable. 

“So what do you plan on doing with them? These Fools? And their noble lady.”

“Thinking of seeing how they work with the Chargers. They’ve got an escaped Saarebas though. Not sure how Bull will handle that.” She’s not entirely sure how Cullen will handle it either, and she lets the silence stretch for a moment, feeling a frisson of tension run through the arm curled around her. 

He heaves a long sigh again, no humor this time, but no darkness either, just a hint of resignation. “Sometimes I think the Maker sent you to test me.”

Thea doesn’t respond. If anyone had anything to do with her presence at Cullen’s side, she thinks it was probably Andraste. The Redeemer. Her lips twist and she ducks her head so she can get her face under control. Her scar is tight from the cold, and it makes her skin elastic. 

His hand strokes her hip, and he ducks his head, pressing chapped lips to the nape of her neck. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She reaches down and squeezes her gauntleted hand over his reassuringly. “I know.” She tilts her head back against the fur on his shoulder, glances sidelong again. “So what do you think, Commander? Chargers or should I give them to you?”

He treats her to one of his wry smirks, and she admires the way it tugs his scarred lip. His eyes are on the small group in the bailey. “I can’t imagine anything a Free Marcher would love more than to be “given” to anyone,” he remarks dryly. 

Thea’s expression gets downright evil. “Oh I don’t know about that. I’ve heard things. She might like it if I left her in your bed like an early Satinalia present.”

“Maker’s breath, woman!”

Thea’s brash bark of a laugh echoes over the bailey. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thea Trevelyan Ainsleigh is Templar Thea, Cullen's Templar lover from my fic "How the Lion Got His Mane," which is attached to the Hawk of the Marches oeuvre by way of the Fools Rush In series (pre-Inquisition timeline). Somewhere in my head (this is about 1/3 @mirabai0821‘s fault and 2/3 my magpie brain’s fault) there’s an alternate timeline where Thea, Cullen’s templar lover from his time in Kirkwall, survives, and both of them are recruited by Cassandra, and Thea is at the Conclave when things go down, and becomes the Inquisitor. Also, and this is my secret headcanon that spawned in my crooked brain way back when I first wrote the Lion’s Mane thing, Thea is a distant Trevelyan cousin. That’s a lot of explanation for like 400 words of random drabbling.


End file.
